


Oh Brother, My Brother

by monkeyihihji



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dimension Travel, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, How much angst can I tag, Maybe not so happy, My girlfriend said to tag more angst, Stan Pines Needs A Hug, Stangst, Young Stan Pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24278317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeyihihji/pseuds/monkeyihihji
Summary: It's been twenty five years of hopping through dimensions and Standford Pines was no where near getting close to home. That is, until he finds himself on a beach similar to the one he grew up on with a young boy on a broken boat who he recognizes almost instantly.
Relationships: Ford Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 6
Kudos: 109





	Oh Brother, My Brother

When Stanford Pines stepped into the new dimension, he noticed three things. One, he was in a dimension that was close to the same oxygen levels of his own. Two, he was on a beach which smelt of familiar salt water and taffy--which made him think he was home. Well, not exactly  _ his  _ home; it must be a dimension with a similar layout to Dimension 46. Maybe it meant he was getting closer to his home. It’s only taken him nearly twenty five years to do so. The third thing he noticed was he wasn’t alone on the beach. There was a kid in the distance who was standing next to an oddly familiar broken boat. In fact, the kid himself looked familiar with his striped red shirt and fluffy hair. 

As if on cue, the kid turned around and Ford took a step back in surprise. He felt as if he was punched in his stomach. Standing off in the distance was his brother. Well, more specifically, his brother at age twelve or thirteen. Ford took a step back in surprise as he watched the young version of Stanley. It was disorienting to see his brother so young, especially since the last time he saw him, Stan had a mullet and was in his thirties. His emotions moved from one extreme to the other rapidly and it made Ford’s head hurt. At the thought of Stan, he instantly felt anger for so many reckless things his knucklehead brother did. But on the other hand, he also felt a wave of nostalgia for when they both were so young and carefree. Despite everything the two had gone through, he still had moments where he missed his brother.

Ford shook his head in an attempt to straighten out his priorities; he needed to focus more on whether he was truly in another dimension or stuck in the past rather than be pushed around by his emotions. It was harder said than done as he found himself glued to watching the young Stanley. He seemed a lot more subdued than what Ford remembered from his childhood; Stan was always bouncing off the walls during their younger ages. Perhaps that was the difference in this dimension: Stanford was the wild one and Stanley was more reserved. Bearing that assumption in mind, Ford searched for a younger version of himself, but he was nowhere in sight.  _ That’s odd _ , Ford thought,  _ Stan and I were always together at this age _ . 

It was probably a good thing he didn’t see his younger self, honestly. He didn’t want to risk being found and the younger accidentally touching him; that would be a horrible ending for them both. Although, he’s quickly pulled out of his thought process when he sees the young Stanley walking towards him. Shit. He glanced around quickly for a route to make a quick escape but he instantly froze Stanley’s eyes met his. 

Stanley started speaking as he got closer, “I know I shoulda asked to come out here… it’s just, I wanted to ta--” He froze in his tracks as soon as he was close to Ford. “You're not my Pa.”

Did Ford really look that similar to Filbrick Pines? Honestly, he wasn’t too pleased to have an appearance that reflected him. He knew he had the broad shoulders and the strong jawline, but it was always Stan who was compared to their father. Ford briefly wondered how much Stan looked like Pa in his home dimension. 

With Stanley now closer, Ford had a better chance to examine him. He looked exactly how he remembered: brown fluffy hair, big brown eyes, and a random assortment of band-aids littered on his limbs. Despite the many band-aids, the kid seemed to have a freshly new wound on his leg. This Stanley also seemed to look sadder than Ford remembered, almost as if the happiness was somehow drained out of him. It would definitely explain why he seemed subdued earlier--maybe he was in a fight with his own brother. Although, from all the fights Ford had with his brother when they were kids, he didn’t remember Stan ever looking so gloomy afterwards. 

“It happens.” Ford said a little too stiffly.

He watched the young Stanley give him a hard look, probably trying to figure out why he looked so familiar. “Yeeeeeeeaah. I’m gonna go.” Stanley pointed behind him and began walking away. 

“Wait!” The words were out of Ford’s mouth faster than he could process them and the next thing he knew he was searching through his many coat pockets. The kid stopped and watched him skeptically. Finally, Ford found what he was looking for and held out a band-aid, “Here. Make sure to disinfect that when you get home.” He gestured to the scratch on his leg.

Stanley crept closer again, more wary than before as he examined what Ford was holding out. He started to reach for it and then froze, his eyes locked on the hand. “Six.” He whispered. 

Shit. How could Ford have been so stupid? Of course this Stanley would recognize his six fingers. He instantly started to pull his hands away but Stanley was faster and grabbed a hold of his hand. He pulled the hand closer and touched each finger as he counted aloud. Ford’s mind raced for a possible excuse, “I can explain.” 

“The only person I knew who had six fingers was my brother.” Stanley sounded almost mournful as he said it took Ford a second to register what tense he was using. “He woulda loved to see this… wait.” He looked up and squinted his eyes at Ford, still holding tightly to his hand. 

Ford stood still on the outside, but on the inside he felt like his heart was going to explode. Stanley had told him all he needed to in those two sentences alone. He explained why he seemed so depressed without even realizing he did it. The words  _ had _ and  _ was _ echoed in Ford’s head. Everything made sense now; the quietness, why Stanley was alone on the beach, and the sadness in his eyes. There wasn’t any need to be worried about running into another Stanford because he wasn’t around; he was in a dimension where Stanford Pines was dead. From how Stanley spoke, it seemed like it had happened a while ago, but his mood implied otherwise. 

“You look like Pa.” Stanley said after a few minutes of silence. “You got six fingers. How.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. 

Ford looked out towards the water, unsure how to respond to that. “Well, would you believe I’m from another dimension?” 

Stanley blinked at him and slowly released the hand. “Like another world? And you’re an adult Ford from another die-men-shun?” 

It didn’t surprise Ford that Stanley came to this theory so quickly. The thing about Stan was he wasn’t as stupid as everyone always thought. Ford always had a suspicion that his brother knew a lot more than he let on; sure his grades didn’t show it but that didn’t prove anything. The older they had gotten, the more Stan repeatedly got near flunking grades in every class which--in Ford’s eye--meant that he was deliberately choosing the wrong answers. The only reason Ford ever came up with was because “being smart” was his thing and his brother didn’t want to get in the way. 

“Dimension 46, to be exact.” Ford knelt down so he could be eye to eye with the younger brother. “It’s a lot like this one, actually!” 

“One where you’re an old man.” Was the blunt reply, which could roughly be translated to: One where you’re still alive. There was a pause before Stanley went on. “If you’re from… Route 46 or wherever, why are you here?” 

That wasn’t an easy answer. “Well, I’m trying to get home.”

“Is that how you got here?” Stanley pointed to the dimension gun buckled to Ford’s side. Ford glanced down and pulled it from his belt to give Stanley a better look. The poor thing had seen better days; Ford lost count with how many times he had used it. It was nearly the same size as a magnet gun, yet the only problem with it was how often it overheated. He had used it too much recently and it was in desperate need of a charge. The power levels were low and Ford estimated it would take thirty minutes before he would be able to use it again.

“Yes, it helps me travel through different dimensions so I can get home.”

“To your Stanley?”

Home was a lot of things to Ford during his many years, but he did remember a time where home was Stan so he nodded. “To my Stanley.” 

Silence followed this phrase where they both just stared at each other. He wasn’t used to his brother being silent, especially at this age. When they were twelve, Stan never stopped talking. No matter the subject, he always had something to say and Ford always listened. It was something that Ford always relied on; Stan was the talker and Ford was the observer. Even now, at almost sixty years old, Ford still missed hearing his brother’s rambles. He supposed that this Stanley didn’t have a reason to talk as much or even someone to listen to him. The trauma of losing his brother probably didn’t help his case. 

“Do I--he--ugh.” Stanley plopped down in the sand in frustration and Ford moved from resting on his knees to stretching them out in front of him. 

Ford felt a sudden urge he hadn’t felt in years: he wanted to cheer up his brother. “You know, if I look like Pa, that means you look like him too.” At least Ford thought so, he wasn’t sure.

Stanley stared at him for a moment before cracking a small smile, “Do I get to wear all his gold chains and have a mustache.” Stanley held his finger under his nose. “I’m not impressed.” He tried mimicking before breaking out in giggles. Ford felt a little bit of pride in knowing he could still make his brother laugh. God, he had missed that sound.

Ford joined in laughing, remembering all the times he heard that phrase while he grew up. “You know, I once heard him say ‘I’m impressed’.” 

“What! No way!” Stanley, sounding much more like how Ford remembered, turned to face the older man. “What was he impressed about! Was it the Stan o’War!? Did me and you fix that!?” 

He almost found himself correcting Stanley’s grammar out of habit, but he stopped himself. If possible, Ford’s heart hurt even more. How was he to tell this version of his brother that they never did finish the boat? He debated lying to the kid. This Stanley never would know if they actually did or not. Ford had the possibility to tell a story without the catastrophe of the science fair or without West Coast Tech. A story where Ford and Stan sailed away after school and never looked back. It was the adventure he knew Stan always wanted to have. Stan never would have got kicked out. Ford would never meet Bill. He had the perfect opportunity of telling this version of his brother how happy the two could have been. He looked at the excited child next to him and realized, in telling the lie, he could also hurt him even more. Without meaning to, Ford could make the kid miss his twin even worse by describing all the adventures they could have gone on. 

“We fixed most of it.” He started, “We were close to finishing in our last year of high school, but we had some conflicting opinions.”

The excitement that was so clearly written over Stanley’s face faded away and what was left was the empty boy from minutes ago, “So we were fighting?” 

Ford sighed, “There was this amazing college I wanted to get in to--it’s why Pa was impressed--but my Stan… he didn’t like the idea.” He was caught up in the memories for a moment. He still could feel the decades long anger boil under his skin at even the thought of the science fair and his ruined chances. Sure, Backupsmore was a fine college, and he excelled there, but there was always the ‘What if’ he went somewhere else. He remembered the day he found out his project was ruined and how he came home to Stan acting completely normal and innocent. He clenched his teeth, “So he ruined my chances of going. Pa made him leave that night.” 

Young Stanley pulled his knees close to his chest and rested his chin on top of them, “I ruined your dreams?” His voice was small and Ford could see a slight tremble in his shoulders. 

“No! Heavens no! It wasn’t you…” It was what? A version of you? How did he explain this to a child? He rubbed his hands together, he should’ve lied earlier when he had the chance. “It wasn’t you. It was just one outcome out of many. Besides, we found each other again and forgave each other.” 

“You’re lying.” Stanley pointed out, wrapping his arms around his knees even tighter. “You still do that stupid thing where you rub the hand you almost broke when we were six.” Ford noticed this instantly and shoved his hands in the sand. He’d forgotten that only Stan knew when he was lying but he had never figured out how he knew. 

Ford sighed, “To be honest, Stanley, it’s not a happy story.” 

“Yeah? Well, maybe Stans and Fords aren’t supposed to have happy stories.” Stanley said in a tone far too bitter for his age and Ford hated it.

He hated the fact that he found himself in agreement. This version of his brother had a point, what if in every dimension that contained a Stanford and a Stanley, they were meant to be unhappy. It certainly made sense in his own life and in this kid’s life. In the beginning, he had hoped that he would find his home dimension quickly and that he would have a great reunion with Stan, but slowly the visualization changed into a more realistic outcome the longer he continued roaming the multiverse. He had started to accept that maybe getting home wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought, and the longer he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that a lot of it was Stan’s fault. Just like everything else, his brother found another way to ruin Ford’s life completely. Just hearing the name Stan often brought up the negative memories surrounding it.

“You’re right,” Ford sighed. “We didn’t forgive each other. I didn’t see him for over ten years. The last time I saw him was the last time I was in my own dimension. We were fighting and one thing led to another and I ended up falling through a portal.” 

Stanley was quiet again and Ford cast a glance over to see the kid was thinking hard. They sat there for nearly five minutes before he spoke. “I bet he’s trying to get you back.” 

This came as a shock to Ford at how certain he sounded. He couldn’t imagine his Stan trying to rescue him. He would need to start the machine again and that was too risky. Besides, even though his brother was smart, he probably didn’t have the willpower to teach himself physics and rocket science--hell, even Ford needed help with it. Stan couldn’t have possibly stayed in Gravity Falls just for the possibility of rescuing him. “What makes you so sure?” 

“It’s what I would do.” Stanley shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s what I tried to do.” Ford understood it was his turn to be silent. “It was last summer. It was just supposed to be another day of working on the boat,” Stanley pointed to where he was earlier. “Crampelter was picking on us like normal and he took Poindexter’s notebook and chucked it as far as he could into the water.” He took a shaky breath as he stared toward the ocean, “After he left, I said I’d go get it because Imma better swimmer but Ford already had his shirt off and was going in the water. I shoulda stopped him but I thought it was closer than it was. The water was rougher than what he was used to… he went under. And I waited. But he didn’t come up.” His voice cracked and he wiped at his cheek. “I started shouting, right? Yelling at him to come back up. So I started going in after him. I couldn’t--I had to get him. And I guess some people heard me yelling? I don’t remember much other than them trying to pull me out of the water.” Stanley fought back a sob and hid his head between his knees, “They found him later… I never saw Ma cry so hard.”

Ford felt his blood turn to ice as the story finished. He remembered that day, but in his version it was Stan who swam to get the notebook. He looked at the broken version of his brother beside him, unsure how to comfort the crying kid. His heart broke for him; he couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose his twin brother at such a young age. No matter how angry Ford was at Stan, there was still the comfort that he was alive. Slowly, he put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles, much like his Ma used to. Stanley’s back stiffened at the touch but soon relaxed into it and leaned towards Ford. He continued to sniffle as he wiped his wet nose and cheeks on his arm. He looked at Ford for a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around him. Ford instinctively put his arms around Stanley and held him close. He smelled how Ford remembered and it made him hold him even tighter. 

The brothers stayed that way for a while, neither of them wanting to stop touching the person they’d lost. He felt his shoulder dampen from Stanley’s tears, but he said nothing as he fought his own tears. He held tightly to this version of his brother, missing the days where he could easily reach over and his brother would be right there. Eventually, the crying boy’s tears calmed down and he pulled away sheepishly, avoiding Ford’s eyes. 

“M’sorry.” Stanley sniffled, “I didn’t mean to cry.”

Ford was confused at the apology, “There’s no need for an apology, Stanley. Sometimes crying can help.” 

“But Pa says--” 

“Ignore what he says. It’s okay to cry. Even adults cry.” Ford wished he had learned that lesson at a younger age; crying didn’t mean he was weak like Filbrick always taught them, it meant you were strong enough to care. 

Stanley nodded, returning his gaze back towards the boat. “I’m not allowed to come out here anymore. Ma thinks it’s too dangerous. But sometimes, when the sun is setting, I think I can see him still. I sit and tell him stories and he laughs.” 

Ford gazed at the shipwreck. It was plausible that the boat could be haunted, although he wasn't sure if it would be the young version of himself, but he believed Stanley. If he looked hard enough, it was easy to imagine the memory of a lost twin anchored to the old boat.There were times that he too found himself hearing his own brother’s laughter echoing in his ears; most days it just pissed him off, but occasionally he found himself feeling homesick at the sound. 

Stanley suddenly spun around and looked at him, “But you and your Stan finished it, right?”

His mood flipped so suddenly that it took Ford a second to realize what he was referencing. “The boat? Yes, we finished it the year we were to graduate.” 

“So you know what it needs to be fixed!” The kid was on his feet in a second and tried pulling Ford up. 

“Well, I mean,” It was more of Stan’s doing than his own. His brother told him what the boat needed and Ford would do it. “I can try to remember, maybe I can write it down?” He offered as he stood up. Stanley took this as a positive sign and started tugging him toward the boat. 

“I’m sure it won’t take long to fix it! Maybe just a few weeks?” Stanley gave up on trying to pull Ford and he ran to the boat. “It’ll be fun!”

Oh. Stanley thought Ford was going to  _ stay _ . That was definitely not a possibility, no matter how tempting it was. He had to get home to his own dimension. The Time Avoidance Paradox Enforcement would be after him if he stayed here. “Wait, Stanley!” He hurried after him. 

“You can go and buy supplies and I can do the heavy lifting.” Stanley was talking faster and faster--sounding more and more like the brother that Ford knew. “‘Course, we can’t tell Pa. He’d be so pissed. Ma would probably cry again. We can tell Shermie. He can keep a secret.” He was climbing on the boat now and upon closer inspection, Ford came to the conclusion that it was not safe. It was odd; it looked so much sturdier and bigger as a kid, now it looked like a broken piece of driftwood with a sheet as a flag. 

“Stanley.” Ford rested a hand on what he imagined would be the railing, “I--” 

“It’s just gonna be me and you, Ford.” 

“You and me. Grammar.” The correction came out automatically. 

“You and me, Poindexter.” Stanley rolled his eyes but corrected the wording. He looked far happier than he did just fifteen minutes ago. “And after we get it fixed, we can go sailing together!”

Ford’s heart clenched at the nickname and knew how hard this was going to hit Stanley to lose his brother again. “Wait. Listen, I--” 

“Just like before! But it’s going to be even better now!” Stanley hoisted the sheet flag on the broken mast.

“I can’t stay, Stanley.” The reaction wasn’t as immediate as Ford had expected. He had expected Stanley to whip around and start yelling and screaming at him. Instead, his young brother just stood there stiffly with his back facing Ford, his hands still holding tight to the mast. “I’m sorry. I know you were excited. I can still write instructions on how to fix the Stan O’War?”

“But I just got you back.” The voice was quiet and shaky and Ford noticed the small frame quivering. 

Ford sighed and climbed into the poor excuse of a boat, “Stanley, I am really sorry.” He reached out to touch his brother’s back. 

“No! Don’t touch me!” There was the violent reaction Ford expected, he was just a little too early in his prediction. Stanley jerked away from Ford and spun around to face him. His nose was red and there were new tear streaks running down his cheeks, but his eyes glinted angrily in the sun. 

Ford’s heart broke at seeing his brother so angry; it was the last thing he remembered about his brother. He had hoped that this Stanley would change that, but evidently he was wrong. Maybe Stanley was right. Fords and Stans weren’t supposed to have happy endings; maybe they were destined to fight and break each other’s hearts over and over again. “Stanley...”

“Don’t! You don’t get to say sorry! You don’t get to say everything is gonna be okay when it’s not! Nothing has been okay for a year!” Stanley reached up and pulled at his hair, “Everyone keeps acting like he wasn’t here in the first place and I don’t get it. And I feel happy one moment and then guilty that I was happy without him being here. And I keep looking for him and he’s _not there_. I feel heavy right here,” he pointed to his chest, “and it just _won’t_ _go away_. And then you come along and it feels better, I feel less heavy? But now you’re leaving too. I’m gonna be alone again.”

Ford watched Stanley break down into tears and he felt his own tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt the same heaviness in his own chest, threatening to overwhelm him at any possible moment. When he was younger, there were moments where he would turn to tell Stan something and all he was greeted with was empty air. Or something would remind Ford of his brother and it hurt that he couldn’t share it with his twin. It was easier to pretend that Stan had never existed at all rather than acknowledge he lost a piece of himself and that’s what this version of Stanley was struggling with. The young twin lost the only thing he never imagined living his life without and now there was a chance to have a second chance at it and now he was losing it too. 

“I have to, Stanley. I have to go find my own twin, remember? He feels lost just like you.” Ford tried reasoning. 

Stanley shook his head, but it seemed as though he was calming down, “But he has hope you’re still alive! I told you, he’s probably looking for you. Can’t you just stay until he finds you?”

Ford ran a hand through his graying hair and tried to take a breath to calm himself. It was like fighting with… well, his own Stan. There was no reasoning with him, “It doesn’t work like that. He… he’s not going to find me.” 

“Yes he is! I told you!” Stanley shouted again.

“No, he’s not!” Ford shouted back, losing his temper. “He’s why I’m here in the first place! He’s the reason I’m lost; he pushed me into the portal. He probably didn’t even care. He was too obsessed with going on adventures on a stupid boat to realize I had bigger problems to deal with!” 

“It’s all my fault, is it!? Just like it’s my fault you went swimming before I could stop you!? You have problems--You left me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to us forever!” Stanley gave Ford a surprisingly strong push considering their size differences.

Out of reflex, Ford pushed Stanley back--certainly not as hard as he normally would, but it still was enough to send the boy tumbling backwards onto the wooden deck. Immediately, he regretted it and rushed forward to see if his brother was alright, “Stanley, oh my god! I’m so sorry, are y--”

There was a flash of a small fist and pain blossomed where it collided with Ford’s nose. He stumbled backwards and fell, shocked at how well of a punch Stanley could throw at such a young age. The whole situation seemed eerily similar to the last fight he had with Stan and Ford desperately wanted it to stop, but he was angry too. He didn’t  _ want _ to leave, but he had to. He was angry at the whole situation and how Stanley reacted. If the knucklehead could have just stayed calm for five seconds, they could have avoided all of this. 

Stanley, now on his feet, stood directly over him, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears as he held his shoulder. He pointed to the portal gun, “Some brother you turned out to be. If you wanna leave so bad, then do it. At least I know this time it won’t be my fault.” He took one more look at Ford before he hoped over the railing of the boat and started walking away. 

Ford went to call after him but then stopped, he had already done enough damage to the poor boy, or maybe he was trying to save himself from more heartbreak. He checked his portal gun to see that it was charged enough to hop to the next dimension, but something stopped him. That was twice his brother--or a version of his brother--had told him he was a poor brother. Was it true? The young Stanley seemed so disappointed in him and Ford wondered if his Stan would feel the same way if they were ever reunited. He watched Stanley walk further away and a heaviness sank into his chest and he welcomed the familiar feeling. He looked around once more at the mostly familiar shore of the beach. 

It wasn’t exactly the beach he grew up on, but it still brought back memories of his Stan and him playing the days away in which they would always come home sunburnt and tired. He couldn’t imagine growing up without those fond memories. No matter how much anger he harbored against Stan, he always longed for the days where they could be kids again. Ford’s heart truly did hurt for the lonely Stanley of this dimension, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. The temptation to stay was strong, but in the end it would cause more problems for the young boy than actually fix anything. Ford hoped that the younger version of his twin would be alright in the years to come, maybe he would even flourish now that Stanford wasn’t taking all the attention. 

He watched the small figure disappear from the shore and he wondered if what Stanley said was true. Was his Stan looking for a way to find him? Honestly, Ford couldn’t imagine the possibility, but it also wasn’t impossible. Maybe there was a dimension out there where Stan was searching for Ford and maybe that would be where Ford and Stan could have a happy ending. He just had to hope it was his dimension’s Stan. He unlatched the portal gun from his belt and aimed for the end of the boat. He pulled the trigger and watched as a portal large enough for him to squeeze through ripped through the air. He could hope that Stan was trying to get him home, but for now he would have to keep searching by himself. Ford took one last breath of the familiar salty air of home, and with renewed energy, he stepped through the portal and closed it behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my bullshit wagon of making sad fics about brothers, I'm just deciding to post them now. Anyway! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
